Break Me
by APsycopathWithRedHair
Summary: Ellington Ratliff and Ross Lynch. There's more than you know going on, for longer than you could've guessed. Kept secret for the sake of R5, their relationship takes a turn for the worse. Where will it end? Will it end like a movie, the two romantics living happily ever after? "I don't care, Ell. Whatever it takes to be with you, I'll do it. Go ahead. Break me."


**Hello world, my name is Jessa. I love R5 to death, and am a Rosslington shipper big time. That's what this story is going to be, a whole mess of smutty, evil Rosslington. Some of you may feel the need to hit me over the head with a traffic cone by the end of this. Anyway, enjoy, and review. It'll give me motivation to write more. Oh, and yey! Smut in the first chapter. Mhmmmmmmmm.**

Perfect.

That was Ratliff. Perfect body. Perfect hair. Perfect smile. Perfect. And he was all mine.

We would've made a spectacular couple, for the time it lasted anyway. Just, we had to keep it a secret, for the sake of R5.

Wow, R5. It's been so long since I'd though about it. It feels strange, like a memory that isn't mine, but simply viewed from someone else's eyes.

Anyway, back to Ratliff.

It all started many, many years ago. I was thirteen, he was sixteen. He was originally waiting for Riker to come home. At that time, we weren't the greatest of friends yet, because of the much less appropriate age gap.  
He got up to go somewhere, probably looking for Rocky, leaving me by myself on the couch.

I got up a few moments later, to go to the bathroom. I hopped up the stairs, and absentmindedly pushed open the bathroom door.

I walked in on Ratliff jerking off.

Yes, that's how this whole story began, walking in to see my brothers best friend jerking off. What happened next, though, is something I never would've expected.

When he first caught sight of me, he grinned, and motioned for me to come in. I hesitated for a moment, but, seeing as I was a horny adolescent, I was interested.

Stepping into the bathroom, I shut the door behind me, and took a step forward. His face was flushed, and his hair laid in sweaty strands on his forehead. His shirt was on the floor beside him, his belt buckle undone, and jeans unzipped.

His hand was wrapped loosely around his cock, tugging gently as he looked at me. With his other hand, he reached out to grab my shoulder, pulling me nearer to him.

I could feel my dick hardening in my jeans, just from the knowledge of what was most likely going to happen. Who cared if Ratliff was a boy?

I bit my lip as he slid his hand up my shirt, with no words being needed for me to know what exactly he was planning to do to me.

He let go of his cock, and turned to face me, using both hands to pull my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the floor. His hands immediately found my shorts, tugging them down to my ankles. I stepped out of them, and kicked them away.

He palmed me gently through my boxers, and I leaned forward, resting my head on his shoulder, letting out a quiet, breathy moan. It was a moment like this that I was thankful that the bathroom fan was on, hiding much of the noise from those outside the bathroom.

He slipped his hand inside my boxers, stroking me fully now. I moaned a bit louder, feeling my cock swell with more blood from the contact.

A sudden look of need flashed through his eyes, and he quickly pulled my boxers down, and with the thin fabric still around my ankles, he turned me around, pressing my front against the counter.

"We need lube." Is all he said. That was all that was spoken the entire time. If I wouldn't have been afraid of someone outside hearing me, I would have said more. I would've told him that I was too young, that I was scared.

But I didn't say a thing.

I simply reached up into the cabinet, pulling down a bottle of moisturizer, and handed it back to him.

I heard the pop of a cap, a moment of silence, and then felt something pressed against my virgin entrance. "Ready?" He asked, kissing the back of my neck. I nodded, leaning my head forward slightly. His hand gripped at my cock, jerking me slowly as he began to press in.

I gritted my teeth, trying to focus on the work he was doing to my cock, instead of the searing pain radiating up my backside. I whimpered as quietly as I could, feeling the head of his dick push past the tight ring of muscle.  
He continued to work my cock, placing warm kisses across my neck and shoulders in an attempt to get me to relax. Once fully inside, he began a shallow rhythm, jerking my dick on an offbeat timing.

After a few gentle thrusts, the pain began to fade into nothing more than a dull ache. He moved faster, as did his hand, and I began to enjoy the feeling.  
He covered my mouth with his free hand, attempting to silence my moans, which were now slipping freely out of my mouth.

I wish I could say we lasted longer, but come on, we were teenagers. One touch to my prostate, and I whited out, gripping the counter as my orgasm overtook me. I was in the midst of my high when I felt him release inside of me, making the experience even hotter.

So there we were, a couple of teenage boys, laying on the bathroom floor, panting, covered in each others seed.

That was when we heard Riker come home.

The rush to clean up must've been the fastest I've ever moved in my life. We wiped up the mess, put our clothes back on, fixed our hair, and left the fan on in the bathroom to take care of the smell. As for us, just a bit of Axe, and we were good to go.

Ratliff left the bathroom first, to greet Riker. I made sure they had gone upstairs, before I took my leave.

Let's just say, that may or may not be the reason we became such good friends. And then friends with benefits. And then boyfriends.

It ultimately lead me to where I am today. Maybe if my teenage hormones hadn't gotten in the damn way, everything would still be fine.

**Uhmmmm, yeah. That. Smut. Yum. Review. I'm drunk. No I'm not. I'm too young to drink. I feel drunk. Bye.**


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